You Cannot Love Someone Into Treating You Right

I’ve wanted to talk about this for a while now. It’s been sitting heavily on my chest, and I guess writing it and sharing it as an anonymous story is another form of therapy for me. It all started when my friend, Mel, connected me to a guy named Alfred.

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We dated for about a year. At first, everything felt rosy. You know how they say, “Enjoy it while it lasts”? Well, I did. I’ve never been one to judge because I’m not perfect either, so I overlooked his red flags.

One of the first things I noticed was how often he talked about his ex. Constantly. Always going on about how she hurt him. Have I been hurt before? Yes. But did I ever badmouth my ex to Alfred? No. I told myself maybe talking about it was his way of healing.

Financially, he was supportive. I contributed too. I never waited for him to give me money before I cooked. When my susu matured, I’d even give him a share and buy him things. I didn’t want to always be on the receiving end.

Then I realised that he had a bad temper. He was always talking down to me. It was as if making me feel small made him feel better about himself. It went on for a while until I decided I wouldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let him talk to me anyhow just because I wanted to be seen as respectful. So I started responding too, mostly through long texts, paragraphs upon paragraphs of how I felt. After all that, I’d end up apologising for the sake of peace.

One day, we went shopping. Each time I suggested something, he dismissed it. After the second time, I decided to stay quiet. Then, in front of everyone, he started talking to me anyhow. I stayed quiet. It was when I went home that I told him I was hurt. I expected an apology but I didn’t get any.

He had this pattern: he’d trigger me, wait for my reaction, then run to Mel to complain. He wouldn’t tell her what he did but he’d screenshot my angry texts, just to make me look like the troublemaker.

One day she told me, “Maybe you’re stressing him too much.” So I told myself, “Okay, maybe I’m not doing things right. Let me try harder. Let me be the good woman.”

Before we officially started dating, he said his love language was respect and that he rarely received gifts from women. So I decided to surprise him. I contacted a vendor to deliver a gift to him. Instead of being happy, he got angry. He said I should have told him first before getting him the gifts.

Then came his birthday. I got him another present. When the vendor called him to say his woman had sent a gift, he said, “Oh, the money I’ve been giving her is what she used to buy this gift.”

That statement was unnecessary. Where I come from, when someone gifts you something, you say thank you, sincerely and repeatedly. But his “Thanks, I got the package” felt cold. Regardless, I let it slide. After all, I loved him.

One day, we argued after I asked him to quit a bad habit. He got angry and compared me to his ex again. He always did that during fights. He believed that as long as he gave me money, I should tolerate whatever came with it because “he’s the man.”

Sure, financially and sexually, he was present, I will give him that. However, emotionally and mentally, he was absent.

I endured everything until one time when we were having intimacy. He asked mid-act what I had gone to do in the Western Region years ago with Mel. That trip happened four years before I even met him. When I didn’t respond he said, “Stop acting like a good girl. The things women do in the streets, they do with men like us.”

That was the moment my feelings for him started dying. I realised I was hurting myself by staying in that relationship.

Before things ended, I asked him about another woman he was entertaining. He got angry and insulted me badly. “You’re not any more special than my exes,” he said. Then he added that I shouldn’t call him anymore unless there’s an emergency. All through his rants, I stayed silent because I didn’t want to disrespect him. But deep down, I started letting go.

I stopped visiting him for three months. In the third month, he asked for a breakup. Unlike the first time, I didn’t beg. I was tired. Tired of the insults, the comparisons, the emotional bruises.

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I used to be afraid to end things because I thought maybe I was the problem. In actual fact, my only problem was trying too hard to be that good African woman. Well, I stopped trying. I chose peace over pain. I couldn’t keep walking on eggshells around someone who claimed love but acted like an enemy.

Even Satan knows I did my best. I tried giving him the love he never had, but he tried to break me. He wanted me to accept his flaws in the name of “That’s how I am,” but he couldn’t accept mine. It took me long enough but I finally saw his red flags screaming, “Run!”

She Would Introduce Me To Rich Men Who’ll Give Me Money

After our break-up, he started badmouthing me to his male friends, just as he talked sh*t about his exes to me. I wanted to tell Mel everything, but I felt she was too loyal to him so I just quietly moved on.

That relationship has taught me to treat people the same way they treat me. Also, you can’t love someone into treating you right.

—Flamah

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